The Doom-Book

I sat in the back seat of the dark sedan, hands cuffed, as the grey-suited men drove in silence to an unknown destination. “You will come with us!” they had said as they cuffed me in the market. “You know what you did!” Except I didn’t know. The men never introduced themselves, I never saw a badge, an identity card, or anything to indicate who they were. All I knew was that they were both very imposing, standing at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders, and military haircuts. Who were these men? What did they want me for? I was merely a librarian. 

At first, I thought they must be from the Clandestine Service, but I knew Clandestine men; they looked nothing like you see in movies, popular novels, or fiction magazines. Clandestine men were ordinary, and that was their strength. You would never know a Clandestine man if you met one, and you more than likely have met one. He could be your barber, your grocer, your children’s school teacher. These men were probably from the armed service, but why would armed servicemen walk into the middle of town on market day and snatch a helpless young woman off the street? It was either a case of mistaken identity or perhaps I had unwittingly played a role in a crime. 

They drove in silence out of the town and into the countryside. I don’t know how long they drove; must’ve been hours. 

“Where are you taking me?” I inquired. They said nothing.

“Who are you?” Still no response from either of them.

I slowly and carefully reach for my purse. They had searched it before placing me in the car; they took my portable communicator but left me the rest of the contents of my bag, thinking them to be useless. They were in error. 

I found a small box of paper clips and immediately began to work them into a shape that could fit into the handcuffs. I then began to work the lock. It was more difficult than the films or novels had made it seem. I sat there for hours, picking the lock.  

The sun was beginning to set when we turned down a gravel road. The spruce trees grew thick on either side, creating an eerie atmosphere. It was then that I finally loosed the handcuffs. Then I waited. We came to a somewhat dilapidated manor house in a clearing in the woods. The car stopped, and the two men left the vehicle. One of them opened the door for me while the other stood alongside. The moment the door opened, I bolted into the wood as fast as my legs would carry me. The men ordered me to stop, but I obviously didn’t listen. 

I heard a bullet whiz by my head but I kept running. 

“We need her alive, you meathead!” said one of the men. 

I heard the thudding of their feet through the wood as they chased after me. Thorns and briars tore at my skirt but I kept running. I didn’t know where I was going, or how I’d get back to town; it would be a long walk to the nearest cottage, but I didn’t have any other options.

I came to a shallow stream and stepped into the cold water. The stones were round and slick. I slipped as I came to the opposite bank, and fell on my face. The mud had probably ruined my blouse, but that mattered little. I looked up to see the two men looming over me. 

They took me up to the well-furnished study of the ancient house. I felt a bit out of place there, still wet and muddy from the stream. A balding man in clerical uniform sat at the enormous, wood desk reading some ancient book. He looked up from his book to see me standing before him.

“Miss Blake,” said the cleric, “I see you’ve been to the stream. Though I personally would not recommend swimming with all your clothes on, to each his own.”

“Who are you and what do you want with me?” I asked.

“I am Reverend Powys, and you should know why we’ve brought you here, Miss Blake,” Powys answered.

“No, Reverend, I do not know why you’ve taken me,” I said, curtly. “Are you from Clandestine Services?”

“Heavens, no!” said Powys. “We are an independent organization.”

“Then what is it you want?!” I shouted.

“She really doesn’t know, does she?” Powys asked the two men. “We were led to believe that you were in possession of an item of considerable value to the Clandestine Service. What’s known as a ‘Doom-Book’” replied Powys. 

I’d read about Doom-Books. I thought they were just a legend. Supposedly, they held the instructions for the building of objects with considerable destructive potential.

“That’s a fairytale!” I said. “There’s no Doom-Book!”

“Correction,” said the priest. “There are four. Together, they hold considerable power. My organization exists to keep them apart.”

“And what is the name of your organization?” I inquired.

“Names are... tricky. If someone hears our name and discovers we exist, then our organization becomes hampered. The Clandestine men would like nothing better than to see all our work undone. If they knew we existed.”

“What made you think I had it?” I asked.

“I had one of my assistants follow the man we knew had the book. He entered the library with it and left it on the desk, where you found it.”

I had indeed found a strange tome at the library that day. It had strange numbers and symbols in it. But it was already marked and catalogued, and I placed it in the science wing where it belonged. 

“Actually,” said Powys, pointing at me with his index finger, “we might use someone of your skills. You’re a librarian, yes?”

“Yes.”

“How would you like to help us recover the Doom-Book?”

“How do I know I can trust you?” I said, crossing my arms.

“You don’t,” answered Powys. “Only trust that in the possession of the Clandestine Service, the book will do far more harm than good.”

“Alright,” I said sceptically, “I’ll play your game. Where do we start?”

“We start by getting you some fresh clothes.” 

A long drive back to town and a change later, and we were at the library. It was a dark, silent, eerie night. The library had closed over an hour before, but being a librarian I had a key. One of the men in the grey suits had accompanied me to ensure my safety and the safety of the book. I didn’t know the man’s name; he told me it was better if I didn’t. I unlocked the door and I entered the dimly lit library. Edwin, the custodian, was still working. He enjoyed playing music while he worked, so there was little danger of him hearing me.

Once in the science wing, I went directly to the shelf where I’d placed the Doom-Book, and removed it from the shelf. I turned around to leave but my way was blocked by Edwin. He grinned through his golden mustache. 

“Hello, Jackie,” he said. “What’s a girl like you doing in a library like this at this time o’ night?”

“I might’ve made a clerical error,” I said, fiddling with my hair. Edwin looked debonair, even in his stained coveralls. We weren’t formally attached, but I was quite fond of him and I could tell he was fond of me. 

“What’s that you got there?” he said, gesturing to the book in my hand.

“A book,” I said. “Perhaps you’ve heard of them.”

He chuckled.

“What sort of book?” he asked. “Mind if I take a look?”

I held the book tighter.

“It’s a highly technical tome,” I answered. “You probably would find it terribly dull.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to have a look,” he edged a bit closer. I bolted. He chased me through the maze of bookcases. Gunshots rang out. I dearly hoped he didn’t harm any of the books. I ran down the stairs, tripping on one and rolling my ankle. Blasted high heels! I took the offending shoe and threw it at Edwin, hitting him square in the face. This provided enough of a distraction for me to get out the door. Just as I made it to the car, I heard Edwin’s voice behind me.

“Turn around, Jackie.”

I turned slowly. A shot rang out. I shut my eyes tightly. Was this it? The end? Did Edwin actually shoot me? When I opened my eyes, I saw Edwin, bleeding on the concrete steps outside the library. 

“Get in, Miss Blake,” said the man in grey as he holstered his pistol. “The police will be here soon.”

I got in the black car, and we drove back to my flat.

“You’ve done a great service to mankind, Miss Blake,” said the man in grey.

“You’re welcome,” I replied. “What happens to Edwin?”

“That’s not for you to worry about,” replied the man. “We’d best get you home.”

“We may require your services in the future, Miss Blake,” he said.

“I’ll be available,” I said with a smile. It had been quite a day.